What should we expect from a theatre production that was conceived, written and staged within 24 hours? What can we anticipate from a work of art of any kind that’s created over a short time, instead of weeks or months or years of contemplation and hard work?
The cast of The Binmen performs at ‘24hr Fest’.
From “24hr Fest”, a theatre project held last weekend in which five short plays were produced from scratch and performed onstage over a period of 24 hours I expected nothing more than loose, disjointed plots and awkward stage movements as actors fumbled for dialogue they’d yet to memorise.
I was expecting, in short, a theatrical mess.
But I was wrong. If I hadn’t been at the Crescent Moon Theatre to observe the process, I would have thought the five plays, each 15-20 minutes in length, were written and rehearsed weeks — or even months — before. Before 9pm on Friday, the five playwrights didn’t even know the directors or actors with whom they would work.
They definitely couldn’t have come up with the plots beforehand. The playwrights had to draw lots to determine which props they had to incorporate into their plays. Serendipity and random chance were also factors in the way directors and actors were assigned to different plays.
After that, playwrights were left to finish a final draft by 7am the next morning. It’s amazing how the rush could result in such freshness and creativity. The finished plays included stories about the angst of recent graduates, a group of people’s drive to win a game through any means, an exploration into a character’s past, a romantic comedy set in a crime scene and a satire of a grave social issue.
Demonstrating interesting use of the randomly assigned props were Second Chance and Tong Su Teung Ja Chana (You Have To Fight To Win).
Written by Pattareeya Puapongsakorn, the main character of Second Chance holds a Buddhist figure in his hands and seemingly speaks through it. He is teased by another character, this one holding a ghostlike doll, about his regrettable past. This portrays very well what’s actually happening inside of us, how the evil within is just as tenacious as that outside.
Tong Su Teung Ja Chana was written by Panuruj Luangphaithoon, who is still a university student, and even though it seemed on the surface to be inadequate improvisation of the props, it did a rather good job at at presenting the mad and increasing competitiveness in a society where people will use any means to win.
Items like a Jenga game, a bottle of soap bubbles and gel for babies’ butts were thrown in the middle of the stage, and the actors began to play a game. Anybody who could come up with the most entertaining way to play with each item would be the winner. First playing according to the rules, such like trying not to make the Jenga tower fall or blowing the bubbles, one of the characters later started to cheat, winning by putting a Jenga block into her mouth or dropping soap bubbles into her eyes. Their delight in winning was feverish, and the exaggerated desire and childishness on the actors’ side was what gave the performance an interesting dimension.
Haed Kerd Tee Tee Kerd Haed (It Happened At The Crime Scene), written by Jaturachai Srichanwanpen and directed by Sarut Komalittipong, was a safe choice. It was a love story between a policeman and his superior. Considering the rehearsal time, the main character’s smooth, flirtatious talk and the way jokes were delivered and received throughout the story was quite surprising.
Sing Tee Mai Koei Bok (Something We Have Never Told), written by Vichapon Diloksambandh and directed Napak Tricharoendej, is a story of recent female graduates’ angst and the struggle for dreams thwarted by a male-dominated mindset. Never once did any of the actresses struggle to recall their long lines — it was also surprising how so many issues could fit so comfortably and naturally within a scant 15 minutes.
The most striking of all, however, was The Binmen. Written by Ratapong Pinyosophon and directed by Ben Busarakamwong, this a story about a group of garbage collectors who are overly passionate about their job, at one point using cotton buds to clean the street.
The play centres on a homeless woman living in a pile of garbage, with the collectors arguing over whether she should be considered an equal human being or simply trash that should be eliminated.
Maj Gen Rienthong Nanna and his ultra-royalist Rubbish Collection Organisation clearly were Ratapong’s muse.
At the beginning, the garbage collectors presented themselves as a choir, singing of their love for cleaning up the country. Not only did the play reflect many people’s contempt for prevalent mindsets and propaganda aimed at dehumanising people, it also explored the concept of khon dee (good person), the definition of which is a debated issue, especially in the political arena.
To judge if she should be exterminated or not, this poor woman is forced to go through a series of tests, such as singing the national anthem, praying and reciting Buddhism’s Five Precepts.
The satire was timely and well-presented, with a series of thought-provoking dialogues. It was entertaining to watch and incredible how the words and characters stayed with the audience after its conclusion, making us realise that what’s happening in this country is more worrying than we thought.
The last scene is still vivid in my mind: the homeless woman, the otherness in society, is hunted down, with delight, by the people who apparently possessed a clear sense of justice.
